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[a NEW VERSION 

OF AN OLD STORY 


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# 'Oie daffy work: was cfcnt 
And home came Karl » 


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BY ELIZABETH MILROY 











LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 




Chap.Y Copyright No.. 



Shelf 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



A NEW VERSION 
OF AN OLD STORY 



BY /' 

ELIZABETH MILROY 



THE 

Bbbey pnm 

PUBLISHERS 

114 

FIFTH AVENUE 

London NEW YORK Montreal 



JrU'O 



I-ibrary of Congrese 

Two Copies Received 
DEC 20 1900 

1f r Copyrfght entry 

SECOND copy 

OaKwnsd to 

ORDER DIVISION 
JAN 8 1901 I 



T53fZf 

I if ft* 



jjfiO 



Copyright, fgoo, 

by 
THE 

Bbbcy press 



the 
United States 

and 
Great Britain. 



All Rights Reserved, 



SUNSHINE BOOKS 

(COMPLETE SERIES) 

i . Experience 

2. Soul Growth 

3. The Heart's Desire 

4. Men, Women and Loving 

5. Worry and Cheer 

6. A Dip in the Pool 



A New Version of an Old Story. 



The daily work was done, and 
home came Karl, 

Worn and a mite too much in- 
clined to snarl. 

He found the supper got, the 
floor was swept, 

For careful was the wife, her 
house well kept. 

Now here is something queer 
beneath the sun; 

To thoughtless men, a woman's 
work when done, 



A New Version of an Old Story , 

As easy seems as rolling off a 

log. 
If you so think, good sirs, 

you're in a fog. 
But this mistake our honest 

farmer made, 
So when they down to supper 

sat, he said 
To Barbara, "Of women 

'twould take ten, 
I'm sure, to do the work of 

two good men." 
Up spake the wife: "Now, 

father, let me go 

8 



A New Version of an Old Story. 

To-morrow in your place the 
field to mow, 

While you within the house 
my place shall take, 

To sweep and scrub and churn 
and stew and bake.' , 

The farmer laughed, "A fool- 
ish woman you; 

I'll rest me in the house with 
naught to do; 

Your brow will throb beneath 
the burning sun, 

Your back will ache until the 
day is done/' 

9 



A New Version of an Old Story. 

The morning came and up they 
rose. Then forth 

Went Barbara to the fields, and 
nothing loth, 

Karl set to work. The sweep- 
ing soon was done 

'Mid clouds of rising dust. 
"Pho, this is fun, 

This keeping house; I can do 
it to a turn. 

Now, while I smoke my pipe, 
I think I'll churn." 

The churn was brought, the 



JO 



A New Yersfoa ol an Old Story. 

churn which Barbara's 

hand 
Had scoured as white as any 

in the land. 
But ere the day was done — 

loth am I to tell 
Of dire mishaps that churn 

that day befell. 
"Did he scald the churn ?" I 

hope he did, 
And that he washed the dasher 

and the lid. 
Yet while this hope in charity's 

expressed, 

II 



A New Version of an Old Story, 

I leave it to the conscience in 

the breast 
Of any man whoever yet kept 

house, 
To say, with hand on heart, 

he doth suppose 
'Twas done. He churned and 

churned and churned, until 

He almost deemed he trod the 

treading mill; 
Nor yet discerned the golden 

butter roll. 
His mouth was parched, his 

face glowed like a coal. 

\2 



A Ne w Version of an Old Story 

Quoth he, "I'll to the cellar's 

depths descend 
For a mug of ale, and that, 

perchance, will lend 
Me strength this tiresome, toil- 
some task to end." 
'Twixt cup and lip are slips. 

Ere he had quaffed 
With wonted zest his favorite, 

foamy draft, 
He heard above his head an 

ominous sound, 
And rushing up the steps, to 

his horror found 

J3 



A New Version of an Old Story* 

The churn upset and piggy 
paddling in the cream. 

Karl, nigh hysterics, scarce 
suppressed a scream. 

And now fierce anger burns 
within his soul, 

An anger he desired not to con- 
trol. 

He chased the pig from the 
churn and thro* the door, 

All round the room, o'er Bar- 
bara's snowy, sanded 
floor. 



u 



A N ew Version of an Old Story* 

The pig was fat, Karl lean; 

and tho' it feigned 
To run three ways at once, 

he vantage gained. 
His wrath grew fierce, his tem- 
per reached white heat, 
By one fell blow it lay dead at 

his feet. 
No time had he to think it ill 

or good 
That he had robbed himself of 

winter's food, 
Because in dumb surprise, the 

hapless man 

15 



A New Version of an CtS Story. 

Beheld too plain the spigot in 

his hand. 
More quickly than he came he 

hastened down 
The cellar-way, where he was 

like to drown 
Himself in tears and ale — 

'twas all run out — 
A riddance good, say I. He 

looked about, 
And finding still another jar of 

cream, 
Carried it up and began to 

churn again. 

*6 



A New Version of an Old Story. 

This time the farmer did not 

weary grow 
With his work, before he heard 

a gentle low 
From the back shed, where, 

waiting for her food 
The cow in ruminating 

patience stood. 
What could he do? A good 

half mile away, 
And high noon coming on, the 

pasture lay. 
The cottage close against the 

hill did lean, 

17 



A New Version of an Old Stofy* 

New turfed with sods which 
now were fresh and green 

With "rain upon the rocf." 
Couid he but lead 

His cow where she on that high 
grass might feed! 

Seized by this happy thought 
he led the cow 

To the well for water, but 
grown wiser now 

By late experience — well could 
he learn 

In that dear school — he shoul- 
dered up his churn 



A New Version of an Old Story* 

And carried it along. But oh, 
• alas, 

Dear me, what grief! for so 
it came to pass 

That when he stooped to lift 
the bucket o'er 

The curb, adown the well the 
cream did pour. 

To tear his hair Karl's ringers 
fairly ached; 

That sweet relief stern Fate 
denied. He lacked 

The time; besides 'twas slip- 
pery, full of cream 

J9 



A New Version of an Old Story. 

Which down his spine ran in 
a trickling stream. 

And now, the transit of the 
cow to aid, 

From hill to cot a short wide 
plank is laid. 

Then coaxingly, o'er this im- 
promptu bridge 

The wondering beast he led, 
quite to the ridge 

Of cottage roof, and then on 
festive thoughts intent, 

His steps he to the nether re- 
. gions bent. 

20 



A New Version of an Old Story* 

Arrived, a new dilemma he 

confronts, 
A quandary, which more than 

all the brunts 
He yet had borne did poor 

Karl disconcert, 
For here is truth which none 

may controvert; 
This thought, it oft perplexes 

womankind, 
But yet does seldom cross 

man's stronger mind. 
"What shall we eat this day? 

What drink?" 

21 



A New Version of an Old Story 

Dismayed, he scratched his 
head to help him think. 

No butter could he have, that 
well he knew, 

But could he not within the 
minutes few 

That yet remained, one whole- 
some dish prepare? 

And that his board might not 
appear too bare, 

That dish he'd flank with side 
supply of jam, 

Preserves and pickles, apple 
sauce, sliced ham 

LofC. 22 



A New Version of an Old Story* 

From thrifty Barbara's store. 

So said, so done; 
Good haste he made to hang 

the kettle on 
The crane. And now the por- 
ridge must be made, 
Then next, and quickly too, the 

table laid. 
But fearing lest the cow should 

idly stray 
From pasture field and wander 

far away, 
To cottage roof he clambered 

toilsomely, 

23 



A New Version of an Old Story* 

Tied round her horn a rope) 

secure, which he 
Into the chimney dropped, then 

going down, 
Fast to his leg the other end 

he bound. 
Sore pressed, he preparation 

made to dine 
And "dragged at each remove* ' 

a tightening line. 

Meanwhile the wife toiled on. 
As Karl had said, 



24 



A New Version of an Oil Story* 

The sun beamed down upon her 

bended head. 
Upon her heated brow, in 

beaded drops, 
The moisture lay as she with 

steady steps 
And swinging arm, the cool, 

crisp grass laid low. 
And now the dew has dried 

some hours ago. 
And passed the freshness of 

the early morn, 
And with it friendly Robin's 

cheery song — 

25 



A New Version of an Old Story* 

From somewhere in the vault 

of blue around, 
Or near or far, rang out the 

dissonant sound 
Of weary locust's arid rune. 

Now wound 

The curling smoke from cot- 
tage chimney-top, 

Of dinner Barbara cherished 
sanguine hope; 

Tho* with pinchings of a 
healthful appetite 



26 



A Ne v/ Version of an Old Stoty. 

Was mingled soon the fear that 

all's not right 
With yon housekeeping man 

within the home, 
Else, why to dinner doth not 

summons come? 
Around the field another swath 

she laid, 
Then, anxious, saw the smoke 

from chimney fade, 
But no, it rises now anew in 

jets 
From either side. Ah, some- 
thing surely frets 

27 



A New Version of an Old Story. 

The fire. Across her shoulder 

then her scythe 
She deftly flung, and stepping 

free and lithe, 
Soon reached the house, but 

paused in dire affright 
Confronted by a most astound- 
ing sight. 
Adown the cottage wall poor 

Bossy hung, 
Suspended by a rope in mid-air 

swung. 
She looked in vain for Karl, 

no Karl could see; 

28 



A New Version of an Old Story* 

No time to look for Karl, yet 

where was he? 
Oh, haste! with one sweep of 

the gleaming scythe 
She cleft the rope on which 

the cow did writhe. 
Karl downward dropped. His 

heated head he laved 
In porridge pot. Be glad the 

oatmeal's saved 
By absence! The water, long 

since cool, 
Refreshed him as 'twere sylvan 

shaded pool. 

29 



A New Version of an Old Story* 

With vision cleared forever- 
more, he went 

To his work next day, forever- 
more content. 



30 



Here is the end of A NEW 
VERSION OF AN OLD 
STORY, by Elizabeth Mil- 
roy, which is printed tor The 
Abbey Press and published 
by them at One Hundred and 
Fourteen Fifth Avenue, New 
York, and in London, Mon- 
treal and elsewhere. 



3J 



SOME ABBEY PRESS PUBLICATIONS 

TRANSVAAL TROUBLE, THE. 

By John Hays Hammond. The American view 
of the British-Boer War in South Africa. The 
author is a financial magnate, thoroughly familiar 
with the whole subject by personal residence in 
the Transvaal, and who speaks with authority 
because he knows whereof he speaks. Cloth. 
Twenty-five Cents. 

PEOPLE AND PROPERTY. 

By Edwin B. Jennings. An animated, logical dis- 
cussion of the question of corporate rights versus 
human rights. Lincoln said that " when a dollar 
comes in conflict with a man he sided with the 
man." This book is timely, able and interesting. 
Cloth. Fifty Cents. 

DEMOCRACY AND THE TRUSTS. 

By Edwin B. Jennings, author of " People and 
Property." The author shows that there is an 
irrepressible conflict between these two. They 
are, or must soon be, locked in a deadly conflict, 
and if one is to survive, the other must perish. 
Mr. Jennings' style is trenchant, and his arraign- 
ment of trusts in the interests of democracy must 
be read to be appreciated. Cloth. Fifty Cents. 

H4 FIFTH aVE'iUE, HEW YORK 



l©< a 






>9C 



Jan - 12 1901 



DEC 20 1900 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

iiiiiiiiiiiiuniiiiiiiiiL. 

O 015 873 703 6 * 




